"Is there such a thing as a man being too tall to join the army?" asked a gigantic young fellow of a dapper looking officer standing in the entrance of the United States army recruiting office yesterday. He was told that a man could be too tall and that he probably was in that class.

"I thought so," he replied, "too tall for anything but the circus business, and I'm so blamed tired of that that I never want to see the inside of a canvass again. I'm too tall to work in the average shop, too tall to work in a store, too tall to be employed in an office, too tall to hustle on a boat, too tall to engage myself as a traction car motorman or conductor, too tall --ah, what's the use. I'm too tall for anything."

In answer to a question the man said his name was Jarvis Henderson, that he was 32 years old and hailed from a small town near Harrisburg, Pa. His parents, he said, were of average height and that other members of the family also were of medium stature.

"I do have an awful time," said he, looking down on the officer as though longing to suddenly shrink to his size. "Since I left the show out there in Kansas I have been unable to get sufficient to eat in hotels and have had to pay for two beds, which I broke when my legs straightened out after I had gone to sleep. I can't go any place unless I am gawked at by a lot of rubber necks."

"Well, I'm much obliged," resumed the giant as he prepared to leave. "If I can't join the army I guess it's up to me to get back and try to catch up to that show again. I don't like it a little bit, but I am convinced that it is the only thing for me. So long."